


Anyone Have a Scottish-English Dictionary?

by pippinmctaggart



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Dialect, Drunkenness, Humor, M/M, No cockroaches were harmed in the filming of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-28
Updated: 2004-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:25:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3909457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippinmctaggart/pseuds/pippinmctaggart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>!Superdialect! Dialect thicker than 3-day old porridge. If you don't like dialect GO AWAY. Please do not complain to me that I'm writing Billy with a thick accent--that is the point and I will laugh at you. This is supposed to be fun.</p><p>Inspiration from reports that Billy and Elijah partied at New York strip club 'Scores', and the idea that when Billy gets drunk, his accent gets thicker.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> !Superdialect! Dialect thicker than 3-day old porridge. If you don't like dialect GO AWAY. Please do not complain to me that I'm writing Billy with a thick accent--that is the point and I will laugh at you. This is supposed to be fun.
> 
> Inspiration from reports that Billy and Elijah partied at New York strip club 'Scores', and the idea that when Billy gets drunk, his accent gets thicker.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck, it wasn't even _English_.

Dom's phone rang three times before he came around enough to groan. It rang twice more before he rolled over to open one bleary eye and peer at the clock. "Fuck." It was on ring number ten before he found the hand he was sure he'd left at the end of his arm not too many hours ago. Yep. Right where he put it. Picked up the phone, fumbled it open. Glared at the number displayed. "This had fucking better be good, Boyd," he growled into the phone as he lifted it to his ear.

And nearly threw it across the room as he received one hundred decibels of Billy in his hungover ear.

"MONAGHAN! YE WEE CUNTYBAWS! WHERR T'FUCK ARE YE?"

To make matters worse, Billy was exercising his lungs in order to be heard over some of the worst music Dom had ever experienced at seven in the morning with a head that felt like it might split open and dribble his brain all over the pillow. And he'd been through Feet with Elijah and his fucking CD collection. He gritted his teeth. They hurt. "I was _asleep_ , you fucking porridge wog. What the hell do you want?"

"WHA'? SOORRY, YE'RE GONNAE HAF TAE SPEAK OOP. IT'S FUCKIN' QUEUED OOT HEER."

"Oh God." Dom hung up. He couldn't do it. He loved Billy, but he could _not_ handle him totally hammered. Not with a hangover, on only three hours of sleep. Not at _that_ volume, anyway. Besides, it's not like he'd understand a single word of the conversation. When Billy got really, really sloshed, his accent reverted to pure, thick, unintelligible Glaswegian, spoken at breakneck speed. Fuck, it wasn't even _English_.

The phone rang again. Dom considered bursting into tears. Decided against it solely because that _really_ wouldn't help the pressure behind his eyes. Considered not answering. Knew Billy would let it ring for a bloody hour. Picked it up again. "WHAT??"

"Ach, theer's nae need tae shoot, Ah'm no deef." The volume of the music behind Billy had dropped to a more tolerable level. Still painful, but at least his eyes wouldn't water anymore. "Domin--Domininy--Dom. Ye. Wherr th' fuck are ye? Ah've been caullin' ye fer days, ye fuckin' numptie!"

"You're on the piss, aren't you? Completely fucked."

"No Ah'm no. Ah'm blootered. Steamin'. Smeekit," he giggled. "All fer th' guid. Happy as a thingmie in shite."

"Huppas _what_? No--never mind. I don't want to know."

"Wherr ye bin, then, ye daftie cunt?"

"If you must know, I've been on a three-day bender. I'm hungover, I've probably done serious damage to my liver, and you woke me up to break my skull open with your shouting--not that I can understand a word anyway. Now fuck off and let me die in peace," he snapped.

"Ye're such a jessy. Wha's th' prob, ma wee mannie?"

"Piss off, Boyd."

"Dominin--fuck. Dom. Ye gaun aff yer heid? Wha' ye doan tae yersel'?" He suddenly giggled breathily and whispered, "Ach, whist lassie. Ah'm oan th' phone."

Dom hung up again.

Two minutes later the phone rang. "Fucking Jock fuckwit!" Dom shouted. Wished he hadn't, and groaned. Answered the phone just to stop it ringing. "Fucking Jock fuckwit," he whispered into it.

"Scaffy mobile. We keep gettin' cut aff. Why are ye gettin' rubbered?"

"What?"

"Rubbered. Pished. Para--paralytic. Ye ken?"

"Yeah, I 'ken'. Look who's talking, you fucking wanker."

"Ah've oanly bin fou fer two hours, no three days."

"Been what?"

"Fou. Mortalled. Legless. God, ye've really bollocksed yer brain, haven't ye?"

"It would help if you'd quit making words up."

"Ach, goan wif ye, Ah niver. C'moan, talk tae meh."

"Who's the girl?"

"Wha'? Wha' gurl?"

"The one you told to 'whist'."

"Ah--wee Messy."

Dom choked. "Her name is Messy?"

"Doan be a bampot. No 'Mehssy'. _Messy_."

"Missy?"

"Tha's wha' Ah _seid_." A long-suffering sigh.

"You're such an arse. Who is she?"

"A stunnin' wee lass. Works heer. Seems tae be keen fer a bet o' hanky-panky--a little knee-trembler oot back," he laughed uproariously at himself.

"Perhaps 'Messy' is appropriate," Dom muttered.

"Ach, doan be like tha'."

"Where _are_ you, anyway?"

Billy laughed again. There was a pause, during which Dom could hear swallowing noises. Obviously not done boozing it up yet. "'Lijah an' I are at a strip cloob, can ye believe it? It's fan-fuckin'-tastic. Ye shuld be heer. Ah danced oan a table."

"You _what_?"

"Ah ded. An' Ah was abso-fuckin' brilliant, if Ah do sae so mysel'."

"Just how much have you had to drink?" Dom asked angrily.

"A pishin' bathtub-full, wee Dom. I'm fuckin' stocious, so Ah am," he giggled.

"I take it that means you're pissed as a newt?"

"Oan the noos, laddie."

"On the news?"

"No, _noos_ \--th' one oan yer coupon."

"On my what? You really have to stop drinking."

"Yer _coupon_ , ye numptie--th' front o' th' back o' yer heid."

"The fr--" Dom worked it out. "My face?"

"Aye, wha' else wid it be?"

"News on my face--my nose."

"God, ye're slow tonight."

"It's seven o'clock in the fucking morning!" Dom shouted. _Really_ wished he hadn't. Moaned. "I've had three hours sleep after a three-day piss-up. Can't you please just leave me alone?"

"Are ye in London?"

"Yes."

"Ah'm coomin' tae get ye. Ah'll find 'Lij, an' weel get a cab tae th'airpoort, an Ah'll be theer in--in--weel, in a few hours, an'--"

"Billy, shut up, you toss-pot. You're smashed. You can't come get me."

"Ah can if Ah woan tae. Ah woan tae know why ye're spendin' three days in th' boattle."

"Not now, eh Bills? I swear my head's going to fucking implode."

"Ach, ma wee Dom-"

"If you get all teary, you piss-arse, I'm hanging up again."

"Agin? Ye mean we werrn't cut aff? Ye fuckin' hung up oan meh, ye peelie-wally whinger?"

"Whinger? Who the fuck are you calling a whinger?"

"Ah seid _peelie-wally_ whinger."

"I'm ignoring 'peelie-wally'. Who the fuck are you calling a whinger?"

"Ye, ye great choob. Quit yer greetin', get yerself soom paracet--param--fuck. Little white pill thingmies. An' water. An' try sleepin' instead o' gettin' buckled. An' then get yer jacksie oan a plane heer."

"No. I'm staying in London."

"Dom, ye're coomin'. Doan argue."

"You don't want me there. I'm a fucking miserable twonk right now."

"Ah noo ye are. But Ah need ye heer all th' same."

"Why?" Dom closed his aching eyes.

"Because Ah've had enough o' this media shite. Th' interviews, th' awards shoos-I cannae do it anymore without ye. Ah need ye tae make meh laugh."

"Is that why you're completely pie-eyed in a strip club, dancing on tables? Because you're accepting too many awards? You cunning stunt."

Billy tried, but couldn't get it. "Wha'?"

"You fucking _stunning cunt_. Follow me now?"

"Wha'? No, ye daftie bugger. It's no th' awards. Ah'm doin' them because Ah'm th' oanly scally wanker who's no busy workin'."

"I'm not working."

"Ye _wheer_ , ye plank. Boot ye're no now. So get yer erse over heer an' get meh oot o' shiteholes like this." He drank deeply, yet again.

"Billy, stop drinking. You'll just end up puking in the loo."

"Prob'ly. Ach weel."

"No, not 'oh well'. Quit before you're completely cabbaged."

"Cabbaged," Billy repeated with a high giggle. He sounded almost like Elijah. "Cabbaged."

"Billy, what the fuck is _with_ you?"

In a heartbeat he went from giddy to furious. "Ah jus' woan tae hae a bit of a laugh, if tha's all reet with ye? Soorry I didnae get yer _permession_ furst. I didnae realize ye were meh fuckin' _mam_ now."

"Billy." Dom said it quietly, stung.

Billy was silent for a minute. Took another drink, then said, "Ah fuck. Ah'm soorry, Dom. Ye know I loove ye."

It was Dom's turn to be quiet. As much as it pained him, his brain was forming plans.

"Dom? Ah'm soorry, okeh? Doan be mad--I cannae deal with ye bein' mad at meh reet noo." He sounded miserable. As drunk as he was, he'd probably start crying soon.

"I know, Bills. You're a berk, but you're _my_ berk."

"Will ye coom get meh, Dom?"

"Yeah, Bills, I'll come get you."

"When, Dom? When will ye coom?"

"Not today, Bills," he said gently. "You're going to have to wait for me. You're going to have to sober up. But soon."

"When?"

"A couple days."

"All reet. Dom?"

"Yes, Billy?"

"Ah'm shite-faced."

Dom smiled for the first time. "Yes, you are. Mashed."

"Guttered."

"Blitzed."

"Ehm--snockered."

"That's not a word. Pickled."

"Is too. Arseholed."

"Slaughtered."

"It's no fair. Ye're no...trashed."

"I think I might still be a bit. Half my blood is scotch. Wrecked."

"Half mah blod is Scotch too," Billy tittered at his own wit. "Three sheets tae th' wind."

"You're so fucked. Oiled up."

"Ehm--trolleyed."

"Trousered."

"Blootered."

"Aha! You lose--you said that one already!"

"Ah didnae!...did Ah?"

"Yes. You said you were blootered and steaming and something else--smeek something?"

"Smeekit. Fuck. That jest goes tae prove how drunk Ah am."

"Billy?"

"Aye?"

"Will you stop drinking now? Please."

"Yeah. Okeh, Dom."

"Why don't you go find young Messy? I'm sure she'd offer to go down on you--take your mind off things."

"Dom, ye dirty cuntybaws. Quit talkin' like tha'--ye're turnin' meh oan," he grinned.

"That's not difficult, you horny git. How's 'Lij?"

"Speakin' o' horny..." They both laughed.

Then Dom quietly said, "All right now, Bills?"

"Aye. Ye?"

"Yeah. I miss you."

"Meh too. Ah mean, ye too. Ah mean--ah, shite."

"You staying with 'Lij?"

"Aye. If th' wee bastirt hasnae left yet."

"Go find him. Go home."

"Aye. It'll breek wee Messy's heart, thoo."

"She'll survive."

"I doan noo... When ye get heer, I wannae noo why th' three-day rave."

"Yeah. We'll talk. Billy?"

"Aye, Dom?"

"Can you please hang up now? One of two things is about to happen." He sounded odd.

"Wha'?"

"I'm either going to pass out or puke."

"Go boak, ye peelie-wally bampot. _Then_ pass oot. Have ye no learned tha' order yet?"

"Right. Good advice. I'll call, bye." With a strangled voice, he quickly hung up.

At that moment, Elijah rounded the corner, saw Billy leaning against the wall of the dark corridor. Hurried forward. "There you are, thank God! Where the fuck have you been?"

Billy held up his phone. "Talkin' tae Dom."

"You finally got hold of him? How is he?"

"Boot th' same state as meh. Meh in a few hours, anyweh."

" _Shit_. Are we gonna drag his ass back here?"

"No. He's coomin' tae get meh."

"Good. You two have really fucked yourselves up, you know that?"

"Aye, Ah noo."

Elijah looked at him closely. "You're not having fun anymore, are you Billy?"

"No. No, 'Lij, I'm no havin' fun anymoor. Can we gae hame?"

"Yeah, let's go. But Missy stays here," he added warningly, a glint in his eye.

"Ah, shite. An' Ah was lookin' foorward tae passin' oot oan her."

Elijah grinned. "That's lovely, Billy. Very classy."

"Ach, shut yer coupon, ye glaikit wee numptie."

"Billy?"

"Aye?"

"Tomorrow--can we start work on the Drunk-Scottish-Asshole-to-English dictionary?"

"Why does naeboady understan' meh? Hae ye all goan soft i' th' heid?" He wrapped his arm around Elijah, half in affection, half for support. They walked down the dark hallway. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy, liquor, and a ruler--but not like that. Oh, and Dom shows up.

Billy sat on the sofa in the quiet apartment. He leaned forward, studying the empty bottles lined up on the coffee table in front of him. Carefully rearranged them, tongue sticking out just slightly between his teeth. Symmetry. Had to have symmetry. Two empty beer bottles two inches apart. Then the empty Scotch bottle after an interval of four inches. Another four inches, another two empty beer bottles. He nudged them apart a fraction.

The phone rang. Billy ignored it, as he had all day.

Shite.

Problem.

Nothing else to drink. They were all empty.

More beer. No. Can't maintain symmetry with _five_ beer bottles. More Scotch? Fuck, yeah. He lurched to his feet, made his way over to the old stereo cabinet that Elijah had picked up at some flea market and proudly declared a liquor cabinet. Tugged at the stiff door; nearly went arse over teakettle when it gave with a groan. Peered inside, pushed bottles around. Fuckety-fuck. No more Scotch. Oh, wait--no, not Scotch. Bourbon. Same shape bottle, though. That'll do. Just turn all the labels away, and still preserve symmetry.

Billy walked back to the sofa, completely unaware he was listing hard to starboard. Sank ungracefully down, unscrewed the lid of the bourbon bottle, took a swig. He shuddered, muttered, "Ach, tha's shite." Took another gulp to numb the taste of the first.

The phone rang again. Billy ignored it again. This time, though, the answering machine arbitrarily kicked in. There was an ear-piercing shriek--Elijah and his sodding flea-market finds--and then Elijah's voice. Damned thing made him sound like a parakeet.

"Billy? Billy, it's 'Lij."

No fuck. Master of the pishing obvious, he was.

"Billy, if you're there, pick up before this thing cuts me off. Listen, I've got good news, I just got a phone--" Three clicks and a shriek, and that was the end of 'Lij.

Billy snorted. "Didnae talk fast enou', ded ye? Serves ye reet, ye noostalgic bugger. Buyin' shite older then _ye_ are. Should hae goat a new machine, no anoother fuckin' phoane."

Immediately forgetting Elijah and his vintage technology, Billy returned his concentration to the bottles. Bourbon bottle wasn't empty. Not _that_ much left, really--it would be a shame if it wasn't empty like the others, wouldn't it? Fuck, yeah. He took another pull, shuddered again. "Fuckin' 'ell." Carefully moved two beer bottles to the side. Put the bourbon bottle in its future place to test measurements. Measurements? Yeah. Need a ruler. Or a tape measure. Did 'Lij own one? Probably had an antique wooden ruler once owned by Lincoln fuckin' Abraham. He paused. That wasn't right, was it? Staggered to his feet again, made his way over to 'Lij's desk. Pulled open the little stationary drawer. Pens, pencils, Sharpies, porn, paperclips--aha! Ruler! Victory! Hail the conquering fuckin' hero! Wait a minute--

Porn?

Billy looked again. Giggled. Closed the drawer again. Stupid place to keep porn. Should be in the bathroom. Or the bedroom. He sniggered, yanked the drawer open, pulled out the magazine. Quite tame, really, compared to some of Dom's. He went to Elijah's room, only glancing off the wall once. Which wasn't that bad when you thought about it, considering he was probably getting a wee bit tight. Just a wee bit.

He looked around Elijah's bedroom. Decided to slide the magazine under his pillow, leaving one corner artfully peeking out. Stood in the middle of the room, staring at the plastic ruler in his hand. Plastic? Should be wood. Wood's ruler should be wood. Snickered at his own joke. That was a good one--original, that was. Have to remember that one. Now--what did he need the ruler _for_?

Billy wandered back out to the living room. The phone started to ring again as he was passing. Without even registering that he was doing it, he yanked the wire out of the wall. Then looked at it. Oops. Didn't break it, did he? No? Good. 'Lij'd be annoyed. Don't want to annoy 'Lij, he's supplying the bottles.

Bottles! Yes! That's what the ruler was for. He stumbled back to the sofa, sat down. Started on his left. Okay. Beer bottle is...he squinted, tried to steady his wavering hands. Two and three-quarter inches wide. Space in between should be exactly half. Half of two and three-quarters is one and--one and--fuck. What's half of three-quarters? Bugger it. Space in between should be exactly two and three-quarter inches wide.

He paused to take another drink. There, that one went down smoother. Bourbon going down smooth? If he were sober he might consider that a problem. But since he was a little sloshed, he wouldn't worry about it.

Billy carefully moved the second beer bottle. Just right. Now--Scotch bottle can stay at four inches. Don't give a rat's hairy arse how wide the Scotch bottle is. And the bourbon--uh oh. Not ready for it yet, it's not empty. Took a long swig, but there was still some left. He shrugged and slid his abandoned glass over. Upended the bottle over it. There was still enough left to fill the tumbler to the rim and slop a bit on the coffee table. "Ach weel." He moved the glass out of the way, smearing the trail of liquor the whole distance. Using the ruler, he carefully, obsessively, precisely placed his bottles.

Finished.

Billy leaned back, contemplating them.

Maybe a beer bottle between the two taller liquor bottles? Ah, shite--he could have used that fifth beer after all! Well, nothing for it now--have to drink another one, because his arrangement won't ever look right without it, now that the idea has presented itself.

Billy struggled for a full ten seconds before managing to lever himself to his feet once again. "Do ye need anythin' else wheel ye're oop, ye daftie bamstick?" Wandered to the kitchen, pulled a beer out of the fridge. Took a couple tries to twist the cap off. "Ah, goat ye, ye bastirt." Drank. Tried to think if there was anything else he wanted before sinking into the sofa again. Nope. Nothing.

He resumed his place in front of the bottles. Upon a second study, Billy decided they _definitely_ needed that fifth beer bottle. Raised his brown stubby (because of course 'Lij had to buy old-fashioned _beer_ for fuck's sake) in a mock salute to himself. "Heer's lookin' oop yer Aunt Fanny." Started to down it.

Just then there was a loud banging on the door. Billy ignored it like he had the phone.

The racket continued.

Finally, just to make it stop, he yelled, "It's bloodeh weel oopen!"

A familiar-sounding voice shouted back, "No, it's not, you stupid Jock! Get off your arse and come unlock it!"

Billy slowly struggled to his feet. "Might as weel niver set doon agin," he grumbled under his breath.

"Come on, Boyd, shift your arse!"

"Ach, keep yer kilt oan, Ah'm coomin'!"

He made his way, one arm up to the side for fending off aggressive walls, to the door. Turned the deadbolt, unhooked the latch, opened the door.

Dom stood there, barely keeping a grip on four large pieces of luggage, and apparently also his temper.

"Dom!" Billy just stood there, stupefied.

"Billy," he ground out, "Would you either take some of this or get the fuck out of the way?"

Billy shuffled to the side.

"Oh, thanks a ton, you prick." Dom edged through the door, banging his elbow in the process. "Ow, bloody hell!" As Billy closed the door behind him, he unceremoniously dumped all his bags on the floor. "And just where the fuck have you been?" he demanded, rubbing what was sure to be an impressive bruise.

Billy had recovered somewhat, and now staggered back towards the living room. "Ah'm glad ye're heer. Ah need ye tae drink soom boorbon. An' mebbe soom beer. Ah'm no sure yet."

Dom threw his hands wide in a universal "What the fuck??" gesture. It went unappreciated, though, as Billy was already tumbling into the sofa.

"An' _ye_ can get oop nex' time, too."

"Get up for _what_?" Dom walked in, looked at Billy's sculpture, and the ruler laying beside it. Raised an eyebrow.

"Beer. Or boorbon. Nae, boorbon's heer. Or hide th' poorn."

"What porn?" He was bewildered, like he'd wandered into a conversation halfway through. Or an alternate universe. One or the other. "And why the hell are you legless at five in the afternoon? Have you even sobered up since we talked?"

"Aye, o' coorse. But Ah needed another boattle. No Scotch, thoo. So's boorbon. Heer, have soom." He unsteadily pushed the brimming glass in Dom's direction.

"Where's the rest of it?"

"No rest. All goan." He picked up the bourbon bottle and waved it for emphasis. "Ach, shite--noo look wha' ye've made meh do." He picked up the ruler and started measuring again.

Dom stared at him for a moment. Picked up the bourbon glass, walked to the kitchen, and poured it down the drain. Returned for the beer bottle and drank the last few mouthfuls. "Here you go, Bill--another empty for you."

Billy looked up at it with a watery, grateful smile. "Ach, mah wee Dom. Ye brought meh mah boattle. Ye're the berries, so ye are."

Dom sat on the sofa, watched as Billy began rearranging the bottles with exaggerated precision. "So why didn't you come pick me up at the airport today? Or at least send a car? You know what it's like trying to get a cab at that bloody airport."

"But ye're no coomin' todeh--ye're coomin' tomorrah," he replied with the inescapable logic of the sincerely intoxicated, as he concentrated on his distances.

"I left a message, telling you I found an earlier flight. I thought you wanted me to come get you."

"Ah ded. An' heer ye are. Wha' a bran new mate ye are. But ye didnae leave a mehssage."

"I did too--I told you my flight number and what time I was arriving. And since when the fuck am I new? God, did you even _check_ the machine?"

"Uh oh," Billy said, putting a finger on his nose. "It's th' machine. _Possessed_. It oanly answers when it wants tae, an' ef it doesnae like yer mehssage-poof!" His fingers fluttered in the air like falling sparks from a firework. "An' Ah seid ' _bran new_ '. Ye noo--braw. Fuckin' awesoom."

"Fuck. I wasted an _hour_ waiting for you. I called but there was no answer, I thought you were on your way."

"Ahh, Ah'm soorry, Dom. I promis' Ah'll be theer tomorrah."

"Billy--"

"Aye, Dom?"

"Never mind," he sighed. He went to the kitchen and poured a tall glass of water. Returned and handed it to Billy. "Drink that, or you're going to be a fucking mess later."

"Okeh, Dom."

Dom sat again, next to Billy, and watched as he swallowed every last drop. "Thank you, Bill."

"Anythin' fer ye, Dom, ye noo tha'."

Dom smiled. "Anything but a hug apparently. I haven't seen you in yonks, and you don't even have a hug for your best mate?"

"Hell, Ah'd sook yer tadger fer ye ef ye wanted--jest doan make meh stan' oop agin."

Dom choked on a laugh. "Don't make promises you don't intend to keep, Bills. But I won't make you get up. C'mere." He pulled Billy back against the sofa, left his arm around Billy's shoulders. "I think you'd best sleep this off for a bit."

Billy leaned his head against Dom's shoulder. "Ah doan need tae sleep. Ah need tae fix mah boattles."

"Fix your bottles later, if you have to. And when you sober up, we're going to have ourselves a little chat."

"Boot wha'?"

"About you, Billy-boy. And about my three-day bender, remember? I need your advice."

"Righ'. Okeh. Boot wha'?"

"Shut up and close your eyes, Bill."

"Okeh. Dom?"

"Yes, Bills?"

"Thanks fer coomin' tae get meh."

"Shut yer coupon, Bills."

"Ooh, Mr. What-Th'-Fuck'-Is-A-Coupon is learnin'."

Dom held him as he slept.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy suffers. Dom snores. Elijah wanders around.

 

Billy woke up groaning. Knew something had to be desperately wrong if he was _waking up groaning_. And then it hit.

The worst hangover he'd ever had in his fucking life.

He opened bloodshot eyes. Kept them squinted against a dim light. Oh God, where was he? Please at least let him still be in New York. He blearily looked around.

Oh. Good. 'Lij's spare room. His stomach rolled, and he moaned. What the fuck did he drink to feel like _this_? And how much? Even the other morning after the strip club was a frolic through the daisies compared to this.

His stomach finally rebelled, and pounding head or no, he leapt from the bed and raced to the bathroom. Made it just in time.

Dom sat on the sofa in the living room where he was watching TV with the sound down, and listened to Billy retch. He sighed, threw back the blanket, and went to the kitchen to gather his supplies. He'd seen Billy that drunk once before, and knew the aftereffects would be hell for him. So after dumping the unconscious Boyd on his bed earlier, Dom had nipped round to the local pharmacy and stocked up.

Just as Dom was getting the pitcher of water, Elijah wandered in wearing striped pyjamas that Dom called his 'Grandpa PJ's', yawning, scritching his head. "Billy okay?"

"He will be. Just don't slam any doors in the morning."

Elijah grinned sleepily. "Or cook bacon, right?"

Dom chuckled quietly at the reminder of one time in New Zealand when the two of them had been really, _really_ hungover. Orli, trying to be a good friend, made breakfast. The penetrating smell of cooking bacon had sent Elijah into the bathroom, and since the bathroom was already occupied, Dom outside into the bushes.

"Right. Nothing more pungent than tea. Go on back to bed, 'Lij. I can't sleep anyway, I'll look after him."

Elijah yawned again. "You sure?"

"Yeah."

"'K. You need anything, just shout."

"Yeah. 'Night."

"'Night." Elijah wandered back out.

Dom carried his 'keep Billy alive' kit into the spare room. Wrinkled his nose at the pervasive smell of stale alcohol. He cracked the window, figuring even New York air had to be an improvement. Stood looking down at the cars, the people still walking about in the cold. He heard Billy stumble back into the room, turned around to see him collapse on the bed.

"Billy?" he said very softly.

Billy jumped. Groaned. "Go awa', 'Lij."

Dom went over, sat gently on the edge of the bed beside him. "Can you sit up for a minute, Bill?"

Billy peered at him from one eye. "Dom?" he croaked.

"The one and only."

"Wha' are ye doin' heer--oh," he trailed off, vaguely remembering. "Ye came tae get meh."

"A day too late, apparently. C'mon, sit up."

"No. Busy dyin'."

"I've got some stuff to help. Just for a minute, Bills."

Slowly, painfully, Billy hauled himself up. Leaned back against the headboard.

Dom poured a glass of water and handed it to him. "Drink."

"Water?" Billy muttered. "This is wha' ye're torturin' meh foor? Water?"

"Drink it."

Billy drank. Slowly.

Dom picked up three bottles in turn, shaking little white pills from them. Handed Billy two of each. "Can you get these down?"

"Oanly if they're arsenic. Oor cyanide. Wha'ever's quicker."

"They're B vitamins. They'll help, trust me."

Billy grumbled, but one by one swallowed them. As he did, Dom picked up a fourth bottle and shook two more, slightly larger pills out. Handed them over when Billy was ready.

He peered at them. With a twinge of hope said, "Henbane?"

"What's henbane?"

"Hamlet. His da'. Henbane innis ear. Deid."

"Tylenol. Paracetamol. And don't shove it in your ear."

"Bugger." He swallowed them. "Wha' th' fuck did Ah drink, anyweh?"

"Beer and Scotch."

"Is tha' all? Ah do tha' all th' time."

"And then bourbon."

"Ach, bloody _hell_ ," he croaked.

"How's your stomach?"

"Doan ask."

"I've got Maalox, if you want it."

"Hand it oover."

Dom shook the bottle, unscrewed the lid; passed it to Billy who took two long swigs. Followed by a water chaser. Dom took both the bottle and glass back. "Lie down again," he instructed quietly.

Billy did so, with only a few miserable noises.

"On your back."

He rolled over.

Dom took an ice pack, wrapped it in a towel, and laid it across Billy's closed eyes.

"No--ge' et off. 'S too heavy."

"Give it a minute," he said soothingly.

The cold slowly began to seep through, easing Billy's burning eyes and dulling the ache in his skull.

"Better?" Dom whispered.

"Aye. A wee bit. Ah might still die, thoo."

Dom smiled. "No. You're going to make it. Doctor Dom to the rescue."

"Jest keep yer hands tae yerself, ' _Doctor Dom_ '. Ah doan need a physical," he mumbled with the ghost of a smile.

A pause. "All right."

"Yer a guid mannie, Dominic Monaghan."

"I know. Shut up and go to sleep."

"Okeh. Loove ye."

"Love you too."

Billy passed out.

 

 

He woke slowly. The first thing he became aware of was the foul taste in his mouth. He vaguely remembered a mad dash to the bathroom during the night. And Maalox? Who gave him the Maalox? It explained the chalky residue on his tongue, anyway.

The second thing he became aware of was noise. The window must be open, because firstly it was cold outside the blanket, but more importantly he could hear cars and horns and yelling and a fucking buzz saw. It had to still be early--who the hell was running a buzz saw so early in the morning? Sounded like it was right in the fucking room. He carefully opened his eyes to the merest slits--just in case the light shattered his skull like an icepick through a cube. But no, it wasn't too bad. A headache, but not _completely_ intolerable. He turned his head toward the window.

Oh. Look at that--not a buzz saw after all. Dom in bed. Snoring.

That explains the Maalox, then.

And vitamins. And water. And Tylenol. It all trickled back.

Friends don't get any dearer than that.

Billy rolled on his side, laid his head on Dom's chest, put his arm across him as well.

The insanely loud snoring ended with a wheeze. Dom stirred. Mumbled, "Survived, then?"

"Think soo." His voice was nearly an octave lower than usual.

"Good. Head?"

"Definitely theer. But seems tae be in one piece."

"Good."

"Dom--"

"Yeah?"

Billy lifted his head, looked up him. "Thank ye. Ah'd be in a bad way withoot ye."

"Bloody hell, Bill!" Dom protested, swiveling his head away. "Go brush your teeth! God, your breath would choke a hyena."

"A _hyena_?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. They eat carrion. I'm guessing their breath leaves a lot to be desired."

"Ah cannae believe ye're makin' meh get oop."

Dom snickered, remembering Billy's suggestion in regard to that possibility the day before.

"Wha'?"

"Nothing. Go on. And put the kettle on while you're out there."

Billy slowly sat up on the edge of the bed. Tried to straighten a kink out of his neck. Rubbed his scalp with his fingertips. Realized he was only wearing his shorts. "Noo woonder Ah wiz cold."

"Would you rather have slept in your tight little jeans all night?"

"Noo, tha's no what Ah seid. Ah jus' seid 'noo woonder Ah wiz cold', tha's all."

"I should hope so."

Billy shuffled over to the dresser, rummaged in a drawer. Found a pair of track pants; tried to put them on but a distinct lack of balance suggested he sit down again to do so. He returned to the bed to see Dom laying there, arms behind his head, grinning.

"Wha'?" Defensive.

"You're so cute when you're hungover."

"Ah, shut yer coupon, ye daftie cunt." He managed to dress himself.

Billy went to the bathroom. Took a long, bladder-relieving piss. God, that felt fantastic. Brushed his teeth, scrubbed his face. Felt marginally human again. As he was leaving the bathroom, Elijah poked his head out of his door. His hair stuck up in every direction, and there was sleep in the corners of his unfocused eyes.

"Morning, Bill," he said quietly. "How you doing?"

"'Lij," Billy felt a little embarrassed for the first time. "Soorry, eh? Guess Ah'm no a very guid guest."

"'S fine," he smiled. "We all have our days, right?"

"Ah'll restock yer cabinet."

"You'll have to."

"Soorry."

"Nah, I was just kidding. No worries, Bills."

"Righ'. Thanks, 'Lij. Yer a mate."

"I'm going back to bed. Six is way too fucking early to be up unless there's feet to be applied."

"Aye. Ah'll be quiet." Billy detoured into the kitchen, filled the kettle with fresh water, and turned it on. Damned electric stoves, didn't allow for _real_ kettles. Probably the only way he would've approved of 'Lij going fucking vintage--a real kettle. He returned to the bedroom, taking a glass of water with him.

Stopped dead when he entered and took in what he hadn't noticed before.

His bottles.

He barely remembered how he'd left them on the coffee table. But knew they had been of great significance yesterday; knew it had been imperative they were perfectly aligned.

Like they were now. On top of the chest at the end of the bed there were two beer bottles, a Scotch bottle, another beer bottle, a bourbon bottle, and two more beer bottles. Billy knew exactly what the distances between them would be if he measured them. To top it off, _the labels were gone_. Perfect fucking symmetry.

He looked past them, met Dom's eyes. His own suddenly filled.

"Ah, Bills..."

"Doan 'Ah Bills' me. Ah'm just tired an' hungover."

"It was really bugging you. I just wanted to..."

"Ah noo. Doan, okeh?"

"Listen, Bill, we have to--"

"No," he cut him off. "No righ' noo. This is too importan'. Let meh have a cuppa. Get meh synapses under mah oan control again."

Dom couldn't help but smile. "All right. But today."

"Aye. Later todeh." He gave a slightly wavery smile. "After Ah pick ye oop at th' airpoort."

Dom laughed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy and Dom talk. Dom gets angsty. Poor Elijah feels abused.

 

By early afternoon, Billy had recovered somewhat, Dom had caught up on some sleep, and Elijah had been threatened with Grievous Bodily Harm if he didn't get a new answering machine.

He flipped them off. They sat around the kitchen table, its glass top reflecting their faces as they talked and drank coffee. He announced, "I'm planning on spending the afternoon naked on the couch with my Playstation. You can join me, or not--your call." Assumed that would drive them out.

"Is that what you're calling it these days?" Dom asked, straight-faced. "Your 'playstation'?"

Billy tried not to snicker. Failed miserably.

Elijah put his fists on his thighs, elbows jutting out. Fixed Dom with what he liked to think of as his _steely glare_. "You two need to sort yourselves out. So get the hell out of my apartment and do it. If _I_ go out, I'll never know when it's safe to come home."

Dom opened his mouth, and Billy quickly stepped in. "Aye, we'll get oot, 'Lij. Ah noo it's yer furst free day in a while. Ah've goat a few things Ah need tae pick oop, anyweh."

Dom rolled his eyes. "Bill- _ly_. I was going to tell him we'd stay here and get naked too."

"Ah noo ye were."

"Spoilsport."

Billy stuck his tongue out at him.

"By the way, Bill," Elijah said, suppressing a grin, "Quit leaving presents under my pillow."

Dom raised his eyebrow.

Billy just looked blank.

"From my desk drawer? The magazine?"

Dom slapped a hand to his forehead. "'Hide th' poorn'! Of course!"

Billy looked from one to the other. "Hide th'…" Comprehension dawned. "Oh. Reet. Eh--soorry." He shrugged apologetically. "It seemed funneh at th' time."

Elijah giggled. "And they call _me_ a dork."

"You are," Billy and Dom agreed in near-perfect unison. They elbowed each other, snickering.

A long-suffering Elijah just rolled his eyes, knowing he'd walked right into that one.

"An' anyweh, 'Lij," Billy continued as if it were a logical conversational progression, "Ye're th' one who keeps buyin' shite ye doan need."

"Like what?" Automatically defensive, as it wasn't the first time he'd been accused of that.

"Like anoother bloodeh phone!"

It was Elijah's turn to look blank. "I didn't buy another phone."

"Ye ded too. Ye seid so."

"No, I didn't."

"You sure you weren't hallucinating, Bill?" Dom asked in a kindly tone that said, _because after all, you were one bourbon away from vegetable_.

"Aye, Ah'm sure, ye patronizin' bugger." He gave Dom a quick smack upside the back of his head. Dom grinned. "Ye seid 'Ah've goat good noose--Ah goat a phone'! An' then yer machine went all Linda Blair."

"No, what I said was 'I just got a phone _call_ '. I was calling to tell you Dom had arrived."

A pause. "Oh."

"Not that it would have done any good anyway," Dom pointed out. "By the time I called Elwood, I had already given up on _you_."

"Ah seid Ah wiz soorry," Billy sounded aggrieved.

"And have you apologized to 'Lij for puking all over his bathroom?" Dom continued relentlessly.

"Ah niver!" he denied hotly. "Ah've goat better aim than tha'. Ah hit the toilet every time!"

Elijah shook his head, grinning. "Would you two take your show on the road, please? As charming a conversation as it is."

Dom stood. "Yeah, come on, Bills." He raised his nose in the air, head turned to the side. "If Elijah Wood doesn't want us in his precious apartment anymore…"

"Oh, for God's sake." Elijah dropped his forehead onto the cold table top. Added, "And please don't say precious again. _Ever_."

"Ah thought ye woanted tae stay an' get nekkid, Dom?" Billy asked, lips twitching.

"You know me, I always want to get naked, Billy. But I get the distinct impression it wouldn't be appreciated at this particular moment in time."

"No, it wouldn't," Elijah averred, nose still squashed against the glass.

Dom sat down again. "You know, it strikes me that--"

Elijah lifted his head off the table, threw it back. Pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. "Oh my God! You're like cockroaches! No matter what I do, I can't get rid of you! I step on you, I throw things at you, I put poison out, I spray you with nerve gas, I set off a nuclear fucking bomb and you just _keep coming back_!"

"Ah think he's goan mad, Dom," Billy observed in a stage whisper.

"I think so too. Perhaps we'd better leave him to crack up in solitude. Let him keep what little dignity he has left."

They got up from the table. Each patted Elijah's shoulder solicitously as they passed. Billy murmured, "There, there, lad." A quiet chuckle was the only response.

After pulling on coats and shoes in the hallway, Dom yelled, "Bye Elwood! Don't do anything drastic!"

"Get the fuck out!" Then, "If you guys need anything, call, huh?"

"We will," Billy promised.

Just as they opened the door, Dom bellowed, "Have fun with your 'playstation', Elwood." He quickly slammed it closed.

Even through it, they could still hear Elijah.

"Asshole!"

 

 

They slid into the booth at the restaurant. Billy put his boxed purchase beside him, threw his coat on top. "Ye sure we're goin' tae be able tae talk heer, Dom?"

"Yeah, it'll be good. Besides, it's January, it's not like we can go for a leisurely stroll in the park."

"All reet."

The young waiter arrived, took their drinks order (coffee and tea), and promised to be right back. They studied their menus with bent heads.

Without looking up, Dom asked, "Where are we going to start?"

"Ye woan tae share a spinach dip?"

"No, I meant--"

"Soorry, Ah noo. Bad joke. We'll start with ye."

"Why me?"

"'Cos ye goat plasterred first."

"So? You got plastered last."

"Aye. Which is why Ah'll go last."

Dom thought for a moment. "Damn. That made sense in my head."

"Noo, it didnae."

The waiter came back with their hot drinks, and asked if they were ready to order. Billy raised an eyebrow at Dom, who nodded.

"Ah'll hae th' coontry veg soop. An' a salahd. Ranch drehssin' oan th' side."

"I'm sorry?" The kid looked bewildered, and Billy had to resist the temptation to roll his eyes.

Smiling widely, Dom translated for the accent-challenged waiter. Added his own order for eggplant moussaka.

After he left, Billy muttered something unintelligible as he passed Dom his coffee, took his tea from across the table.

"Oh, come on, Bill. When you talk that fast, even _I_ have trouble understanding you sometimes."

"It wasnae _that_ fast."

"Was too. Just soup and salad? Your stomach still bothering you?"

"Noo, no really. Just doan want tae push it. Soo start talkin'."

"Where?"

"Wha' started th' three-day bender."

Dom was silent for a moment, staring at his coffee as he stirred sugar into it. "The play ended early."

"Ah figured," Billy said quietly.

" _Three weeks_ early."

"Ach, shite. Ah'm soorry, Dom."

"It sucked, Billy."

Billy said nothing. Just watched.

"I mean, it was _really_ bad. Atrocious."

Billy stayed silent.

Dom's voice grew edgy. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"Ah ded. Ah seid Ah'm soorry. An' Ah really am."

"That's not what you _really_ want to say though, is it?"

"Dom…"

"Why don't you go ahead? Say it. Say 'I told you so'."

"Ah doan want tae."

"Well you did. You told me so. You told me it was going to be a stinker, and you were right," he said bitterly.

"Ah wish Ah wasnae."

"Why did you let me do it? Why--"

" _Let_ you?" Billy interrupted incredulously. "How th' hell wiz Ah s'posed tae stoap ye? Ye told meh tae fuck aff, mind meh oan business, an' quit tryin' tae be yer fuckin' agent, remember? Ah told ye Ah didnae think it wiz a guid idea. Th' choice wiz yours."

"Shit," Dom muttered. "I know, I didn't mean it like that. But couldn't you have…tried harder? To make me listen? I've fucked up, Bill."

"Noo, ye haven't."

"Yes, I have. I should never have gone anywhere near that play. What made me think it was a good idea? I mean, even the script was crap, let alone what we did to it. I tried to--but there was no…"

"Dom, Ah'm sure it wasnae--"

"Did you see any of the reviews?" he asked in a low voice.

Billy hesitated.

"You did, didn't you?"

"Aye. Ah found two. They wheer…fair harsh."

"Most of them would have called us shit if they could print it. How the hell am I supposed to get another job _now_? If I couldn't before, there's no way anyone…" He trailed off, dropped his head in his hands, long fingers in his hair.

"Dom, neither o' th' reviews Ah reid mentioned ye at all."

"Yeah, keep going Bill, 'cause that's really helping. Do you have any idea how hard this was for me to tell you?"

"It's guid, ye gobshite. Furst, it means yer name isnae bound oop with th' production. Give it a moonth, noboady will remember ye were in it."

"You think?" Dom asked, a sudden spark of hope in his voice.

"Ah do. Dom, we've all goat shite we leave off th' CV. An' sehcond--they didnae mention ye 'cos theer wiz nothin' tae criticize. Tha' means the _show_ may hae been shite, but _ye_ were guid. An' at this point, tha's all tha' shoould matter tae ye."

"But what if I wasn't, Bill?" Dom asked, agonized. Remembered where he was, and lowered his voice. "What if I _wasn't_ good, what if I was just…unmemorable? What if Rings was _it_? The one big shot, and for ever after I'll just be the 'guy that played that hobbit'? We've joked about it, but it's starting to feel that way. I mean, what have I done since? Two indie films that a grand total of twelve people have seen, and a shit play."

Billy let him rattle on. Knew he needed to get it out of his system, he'd been carrying it too long.

"Everyone else has had at least one good, big project--hell, look at you and Orli. Yours will both go up for fucking _Oscars_. And a lot of people are saying you should be nominated for King. You should, you know."

Billy snorted, but Dom kept going.

"Everyone has something to work on, something to work towards, and I'm just…drifting. I've been labeled a party animal. What the hell else am I supposed to do, Bill? If I had work, something to get up in the morning for, I'd be the most responsible actor you've ever seen."

Billy couldn't help but grin at him, crossing his arms and leaning back. "'Responsible'? Ye sure tha's the word ye're lookin' for?"

Dom had the grace to blush. "Well…maybe not 'responsible'. Dedicated?"

"Aye. Ye are tha'," Billy agreed.

"I just feel--I feel like shit, actually. I feel like it's over, and I didn't even know it was ending until it was too late."

"An' tha's when ye started drinkin'?"

"Yeah. Went to a club with a mate, and got pissed. Stayed pissed because it felt better. Stayed pissed because I was there and you were here. Stayed pissed because I didn't have the guts to call you and tell you the show was bollocks and let you say 'I told you so'. Stayed pissed because I realized what a fucker I'd been when I left you last time."

"Dom--"

"I'm sorry about that, Billy. I was an arsehole, and I'm really sorry."

"Ah noo ye are. Ah am too. Ah didnae help matters any."

Their food arrived at that point, temporarily halting the conversation as the waiter insisted on salting, peppering, and cheese-ing everything in sight. Billy surreptitiously put his hand over his soup bowl as the cheese grater was waved around. Dom couldn't help it--had to cough to avoid actually laughing. Felt an incredible relief, and a rather overwhelming sense of gratitude toward Billy. He was so good at that--at secret little jokes that kept Dom from dropping too far down. Why the hell had he stayed away, again? He should have come running back the second that God-forsaken play had closed. Wanted Billy to know. Fucking waiter, hovering like that. He tried to nudge Billy with his knee, and ended up kicking him in the shin.

Billy jumped, let out an odd grunt. The waiter eyed him sideways, then after grating another pile of cheese onto Dom's moussaka, left.

Dom tried to hold his mirth in, his shoulders shaking, as he scraped some of the cheese off.

Billy muttered, "Thanks verra much. Now he thinks Ah'm off mah heid."

"Oh God, that was priceless! I didn't mean to do it, but that was too funny." He wiped the corners of his eyes, still chuckling.

Billy smiled. "Ah really cannae take ye oot in public, can Ah?"

"Apparently not." Dom grinned. "Thanks, Bills."

"Fer wha'?"

"Oh, just…you know. And I'm sorry I didn't come back earlier. I should have. I should have come back right after the play ended and apologized. I should have come back, ranted and raved, and let that be the end of it, not sulked in London."

"Aye, ye shoould have. An' Ah shoould have called ye. Ah'm soorry Ah didnae."

"I _was_ kind of surprised," Dom admitted. "Usually you don't let me pull that shit. Why didn't you call?"

"Ah doan think so, laddie. We're no done wi' _ye_ , yet."

"Why, what's left? The piss-up's no longer a grand mystery."

"Why wiz this soo hard tae tell meh?"

Dom flushed. "I was hoping you hadn't noticed that."

"Ah nooticed."

"Of course you did," he sighed.

"Soo?"

"Because…it's you. I'm embarrassed as hell to have to tell you I failed." He looked down, rubbed the bridge of his nose with his forefinger, hiding behind his hand. "I got so fucking mad when you told me not to do it. I'm jealous, Bill. Jealous of all of you, but you especially. I wanted to prove I'm as good as you are. I wanted you to be _proud_ of me. And I fucked it up royally."

"Ach, Dom. Ye're sich a daft numptie," Billy said fondly.

Dom snorted. "Assuming that means I'm a gormless mardarse, tell me something I _don't_ know."

"All reet, Ah well. Ye're just as guid as th' rest of oos, Dominic. In a lot o' ways, yer better. It's one o' th' reasons Ah loove ye--ye push meh tae be better than Ah am."

Dom opened his mouth to say something, but Billy held his fork up warningly.

"Ded Ah say Ah wiz finished? No, Ah didnae. So shut it. Ah _am_ proud o' ye, no matter wha'. Doan ye ever forget tha'. But yer impulsive. Well ye let meh give ye soom advice? Withoot ye gettin' th' pish oop?"

"I'm hardly in a position to say no, am I?"

"Ye ded las' time."

"Which is why I'm in no position to now. Go ahead."

"When they offered ye tha' play, ded ye do any resairch oan it? Oan the director?"

"No," Dom confessed, looking at his plate.

"Ah noo ye jus' wanted tae work, Dom," he said gently. "Believe meh, Ah've been theer. So let an older, wiser--"

"--Balder, wrinklier, flabbier--"

"Ye gobshite. May Ah finish?"

"Please," Dom inclined his head politely. "Age before beauty."

"Wanker. Ah doan noo why Ah bohther."

"Because you love me."

"Oh. Reet. Ah forgoat. An' 'flabbier'? Ah doan think soo. Ah'm in better shape than ye are."

"Whatever, old man. Go on. I need your help. What kind of research should I be doing?"

 

 

 

An hour later they had finished eating and paid their check. Billy started to put his coat on.

"Hold up, there, mate," Dom objected. "You haven't done any talking yet. We aren't even _close_ to finished."

"Noo, but Ah need tae get oot o' heer. Tha' waiter keeps starin' at meh, he's creepin' meh oot."

Dom chuckled. "Maybe he likes you."

"Oor he's debatin' callin' th' polis, thanks tae ye."

"Where are we going to go?"

"Let's jus' find a café." He got up and left, taking his package, leaving Dom no choice but to follow.

Dom's little inner devil suddenly whispered in his ear. "Billy," Dom called just as the other man was passing the waiter and nodding a thank you. "Billy, it's all right. I've got your medication right here--no one's going to hurt you!"

Billy froze in mid-stride.

So did the waiter.

Without looking back, Billy resumed walking, his pace slightly faster, his shoulders twitching. His voice shook as he muttered, "Deid. Ye are _so_ bloodeh deid." Didn't care how much his threats were frightening the waiter.

When he finally reached the sidewalk outside, he leaned against the building and laughed until tears came to the corners of his eyes. Dom came stumbling out, already in the same state, and collapsed against Billy.

"Oh God, did you see his face?" he gasped. "You should have seen how fast he backed away when I walked by."

"Ye are one evil bastirt, ye noo tha'?" Billy giggled.

"I hope you didn't like that restaurant too much."

"Luckily, noo."

"Serves you right for abandoning me yesterday anyway." Dom was starting to get his breath back. Still leaned against Billy for support.

Billy straightened, a funny look on his face. Suddenly laughed. Tucked the electronics box under his arm. Said firmly, "Reet. Ah noo where we're goin'."

"Where?"

"Ye'll see. C'moan." He stepped to the curb, refusing to say more. Kept scanning the traffic for a free cab.

"Billy, tell me where we're going. Please? Oh, come on, just tell me. Where are we going, huh? Pleeeease?" Dom knew Billy had a low tolerance for whining, used and abused it whenever he could.

Billy ignored him. Spotted a cab and waved it over. He got in, slamming the door behind him, forcing Dom to go around to the far side. Took that time to tell the cabbie their destination.

Dom climbed in. "Thanks, you wanker."

"Noo prooblem," Billy replied airily.

"Where are we going?"

"Persistent bugger, aren't ye?"

"This surprises you?" Dom raised an eyebrow.

"Ye constantly surprise meh, Dominic."

"Oh--well….Good. I think."

They were silent for a bit. Until Dom started to get suspicious about what he was seeing out the window.

"Billy--we're not going where I think we're going, are we?"

"Noo. Def'nitely no."

"We are, aren't we?"

"Aye."

Dom grinned. "Sometimes you really are as big a dork as Elijah."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy loses it. Porno Merry and Pippin. Elijah pretends to be innocent.

 

"Okeh, noo go oover there, an' preten' ye're just arrivin'," Billy instructed, giving him a shove toward the gate.

Dom rolled his eyes. "Billy, this really wasn't necessary."

"Aye, it wiz."

"You didn't need to drag me all the way _into_ the airport."

"Aye, Ah ded. Ye woanted meh tae pick ye oop, Ah'm pickin' ye oop. Get yer arse oover there."

"Can't we just 'pretend' we've done this, too?"

"Noo. Ye didnae get yer hug yesterdeh. Ah woan tae do this reet," he said firmly.

"You're completely mad."

"Get oover there, and give it laldy, will ye?"

"I know you've told me before, but I don't remember what that one is."

"Effort, lad. Give et a go."

"Don't call me lad."

Billy just made shooing motions with his hands.

Resigned, knowing he'd have to make a fool of himself before Billy would consent to leave, Dom complied. Walked over to one of the arrival gates. Squared his shoulders, pasted a smarmy grin on his face, and turned. Threw his arms wide and shouted, "Billy! You little porridge wog, how the hell are you?"

With a genuine smile on his face, Billy sauntered over. "Ye're late." Grabbed him and pulled him close into a back-thumping embrace. "Welcome back, Dom. Ah missed ye." Held him tightly.

"I missed you too," Dom said softly, surprised to find it was no longer a joke. He was being hugged more fiercely than he expected. He returned the favour.

Billy let him go. Made a show of looking around. "Wha', noo luggage _again_? God, Ah hate shoppin' for pants wi' ye. When are ye goin' tae learn tae pack a flamin' sootcase?"

If Billy wanted to leave it there for now, fine. Dom grinned. "I've decided to try going commando. You should give it a whirl, it's very… liberating."

"Ah doan think soo, thanks. But Ah'll file tha' information away foor future reference."

"How about buying a mate a coffee? They didn't even _offer_ one on that awful flight. Shit movie, too. I'm going to have to complain."

"Ah'd write a letter, ef Ah wheer ye."

Dom casually said, "You do know you're barmy, yeah?" They walked toward the airport restaurant.

"Ah noo. But ye wouldnae have meh any oother weh."

"No. No, I wouldn't."

Inside the restaurant Billy ordered them coffee and tea. Took it over to where Dom had chosen a table by the massive windows. He had to carry the tray very carefully in one hand, his pasteboard box in the other.

"Sorry, Bill," Dom took it from him, set it on the table by the napkin dispenser. "I should have taken that."

"Aye, ye shoulda, ye thoughtless bugger. Ah've had an idea--oan th' way back, we need tae stoap at a toy stoore."

"Why?"

Billy told him.

Dom laughed. "Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. That's mint, that is."

Putting sugar and milk in his tea, Billy eyed it doubtfully. "Ah doan noo about this. Soomethin' tells meh this is a bad idea. Airpoort tea? Ah think it's blasphemy. 'S in th' Bible."

"Yeah, I remember reading that," Dom said dryly. "Because tea is such a Biblical topic."

"It's true." He took a cautious sip. "Ach, tha's shite."

"You're the one who wanted to come here."

"Ye're th' one who kept goin' oan about meh no pickin' ye oop."

"You deserved it. You're the one who was polaxed at five in the afternoon."

"'Polaxed'?" Billy cocked his head. "Ah like tha' one."

"I'm glad. Are you going to quit jabbering on about fuck-all squared and actually talk to me, or what?"

"Do Ah have a choice?"

"No."

"Then it wiz a pretty stoopid question, wasnae?"

"Billy," Dom said warningly.

He sighed. "All reet. Wheer do ye woant meh tae start?"

"The beginning."

"Th' beginnin' as in a few moonths ago, oor th' beginnin' as in when I wiz a wee lad an' this great bully frae Ruchazie tried tae take meh fitba--"

"Boyd," Dom ground out, getting annoyed. "Get on with it."

Billy looked down at his cup. "Soorry. Ah jus'--Ah doan noo wha' tae say."

Dom took a deep breath. Relaxed. Quietly said, "Fine. Answer this, then. When I got to 'Lij's yesterday, you were absolutely hammered. Completely and totally rat-arsed. If I hadn't shown up and dumped your bourbon, would you have drunk it?"

Billy winced. "Aye, probableh. Eventually."

"That was the drunkest I've ever seen you. You were still pissed when you woke up hours later. Puking and convinced you were dying."

He said nothing.

Dom leaned forward. "Don't ever drink that much again, Billy. That was stupid. And bloody dangerous."

"Okeh, Dom," Billy said weakly, intensely uncomfortable under Dom's fierce gaze.

"Look at me."

After a moment, Billy looked up.

"I mean it, Bill."

"Ah noo ye do. So do Ah, believe meh."

"Good." Dom sat back again.

"Ah'm soorry, Dom. If Ah'd known ye wheer coomin', Ah wouldnae--"

"But you didn't, and you did," Dom cut him off gently. "And I need to know why."

Billy shrugged. "Ah jus'…had a beer. An' then anoother. An' then Ah thought a little Scotch'd be guid."

"What about the bottles?"

Billy toyed with the salt shaker. "Ah've bin thinkin' about tha'."

"And?"

"Ah cannae remember why they wheer so damned importan'. Yesterdeh they wheer vital tae mah existence. They _had_ tae be perfectly in oorder. An' this moornin'--when Ah saw…"

"I know. I was watching you. You turned white."

"Ded Ah?"

"Well…" Dom smiled. "Sort of _greenish_ -white."

Billy snorted. "Ah _bet_."

"You're not answering anything here, Bills. Quit dancing around and give me straight answers."

"Ah'm tryin'," he snapped.

"No, you're not. You're thinking very carefully about what to say. Give over. Yesterday you said you had to 'fix' your bottles. Today you're saying 'perfectly in order'. What does it mean?"

Billy rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. "Ah doan noo…"

"Yes, you do." Dom continued to push, hoping Billy would start yelling instead of clamming up and walking away like he sometimes did. "Why did it matter that they were perfectly aligned?"

"Ah seid Ah doan noo!"

"Of course you do. Don't be such a shit. What does it mean? What needs to be fixed?"

"Everythin'!" Billy finally exploded. "Wha' th' hell _doesnae_ need tae be fixed? It's all fucked oop, it's all completely bloodeh bollocksed!"

Dom sat back. Surprised. Not at the yelling, but at the statement.

Billy recalled where they were. Lowered his voice, but still spoke harshly. With a note of desperation Dom didn't remember ever hearing before. "Ye woan tae noo why I goat shite-faced th' oother night, Monaghan? 'Cos Ah wiz feelin' like th' biggest bloodeh prick oan th' planet. An' apparently soomewheer along th' way mah brain decided if Ah _felt_ like one, Ah might as weel _act_ like one. So aye, Ah goat pickled, an' aye, Ah danced oan a table. An' aye, Ah regret every bloodeh sehcond."

"You were having fun. So you got a bit carried away," Dom said, not understanding.

"An' wiz Ah just 'a bit carried away' yesterdeh, when ye had tae peel meh off th' sofa an' poour pills doon mah throat?"

"So why, then, dammit?" Dom asked, suddenly angry himself. "Why do you feel like a prick? What's so fucked up?"

"Name it!" Billy half-shouted. Pulled it back with an effort. "Go oan, name anythin', Ah'll tell ye why it's bollocksed."

Dom foundered for a minute. Spouted the first thing he thought of. "Your sister."

"Margaret? She's no talkin' tae meh."

"What? Why? Since when?"

"Since Ah missed her birthdeh 'cos Ah wiz at soome stupid party. 'Cos Ah go hoome once every six months an' expect her tae drop everythin' foor meh. 'Cos she heers noos about meh oan th' telly instead o' froom _meh_."

"Oh. Well, you deserve it then. God, you're a crap brother." Dom smiled.

He won a grudging snort of laughter from Billy, who propped his elbow on the table, leaned his head on his hand. "Ye think?"

"That's easily fixable, Billy. It's Margaret--you know you're forgiven. You just have to make it up to her."

"Ah s'pose."

"What else? 'Lij?"

"Ah've made him feel he's goat tae bloodeh weel baby-sit meh. He's busy with his own life, an' 'cos Ah'm…"

"Screwed?" Dom supplied helpfully.

"Thank ye soo much. Aye, screwed. He's spendin' all his spare time watchin' meh, tryin' tae keep meh busy, an' thinkin' he's doin' a fine job o' hidin' it from poor wee Billeh. Yesterdeh wiz th' furst day he's left meh completely oan mah own since Ah goat heer, an' look wha' Ah ded. God, Ah'm sich a choob."

"It's _'Lij_ , Billy. You know he loves the chance to look after us."

"Ah doan care ef it makes him feel like Mother bloodeh _Teresa_ \--it's th' fact tha' he feels it's necessary at _all_."

"But apparently it is."

"Aye," he agreed moodily. "Pathetic, isn't it?"

"We'll leave that one for now. What else? Your career's fine."

Billy went to pieces all over again. Hissed, "Wha', are ye blind, ye fannybaws? When wiz th' las' time Ah worked, Dom? Yer filums may hae been small, and yer play shite, but at least ye _had_ them."

"But Master and Commander--"

"Wiz a great filum. An' I wrapped a year an' a fuckin' half ago!"

"But you're always busy!" Dom protested. "I should know, I--"

"No, Dom, Ah'm no always busy. Ah'm always _movin_ '. Theer's a big difference."

Dom leaned against the back of the bench, shaking his head. "What--where the hell is this coming from? Why haven't I heard _any_ of this before?"

"'Cos we're bollocksed, too," Billy said bleakly.

Dom stilled. "Meaning what?"

"Meanin' Ah loove ye. An' as a mate ye're th' berries. But why didn't ye noo Margaret hasnae spoken tae meh in a moonth? Why does 'Lij noo wheer ye're stayin' in London, an' Ah realize Ah doan? Why do ye think mah career's fine when at th' moment it's deid in th' water? How could ye possibly spend three days in th' boattle, an' _Ah doan noo about it_?"

"And why haven't you said a word about any of this to me?" Dom added quietly.

"Aye, tha' too, Ah s'pose."

Dom turned his head to look out the window. Billy stared down at his cup of cold tea.

"When did this happen, Billy?"

"Ah doan noo, Dom. An' Ah doan noo wha' tae do about it."

"We'll fix it. You know that, don't you?"

"No. No, Ah _doan_ noo tha'," he said sadly. "I _woant_ tae fix it, but Ah doan noo tha' Ah can."

"Not you. We."

Billy pushed his cup to the side. Folded his arms on the table and laid his head on them. "Fuck, Ah'm soo tired, Dom."

"I know, Bills. No wonder the award shows and interviews were getting to you. Shallow, selfish fuckers, the lot of them."

Billy didn't answer. It really wasn't necessary.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize you were so…miserable. I guess I should have."

"No, ye had yer crap play tae woorry oan."

Dom chuckled. "Thanks for reminding me. Is that why you didn't call me after the play closed?"

"Ah didnae heer about it right away. But aye. Ah didnae think Ah'd be much help."

"Why didn't you freak on me when I left? When I went mad as toast, accused you of trying to torpedo me? Why did you just take it?"

"Ah doan noo."

Dom rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't start that again, I don't have the strength."

"Ah guess…Ah wasnae sure why ye wheer soo angry. Ah doan think Ah really _listened_ , tae be honest."

"That's probably a good thing. I said some…a lot of it was--"

"Doan woorry about it. Ah jus' figured…hell, everythin' else seemed tae be swirlin' doon the toilet, Ah thought _we_ wheer too."

"And you were just going to let me go like that?"

"I wasnae ' _just goin' tae_ ' anythin', Dom. Doan ye get it? Ah'm stuck. Ah cannae seem tae pull mah soorry arse oot of th' void Ah'm in. Everythin's oot o' mah reach."

"Wrong, Billy." Dom reached forward and gripped Billy's arm tightly. "Look at me."

Billy considered refusing. Knew it wasn't worth it. He sat up, and looked at Dom, his eyes red.

"Ah, Bills--"

"Ye always say tha'. Shut yer coupon, Ah'm tired."

"It's not all out of your reach. None of it is. Okay, maybe you have to wait to be cast in something. But other than that, you can control all of this. And that's what your bottles were about, right? Not only fixing things, but having control over them in the first place. God, and I thought _I_ was drifting. Quit your griping and _do_ something about it. Ask for help if you need it--you know I'd bend over backwards for you--"

Billy couldn't help but snicker at that.

Dom grinned. "I know what you're thinking, you dirty wanker. Ask me, or 'Lij, or your sister, and we'll all come running. You damned well ought to know that by now."

"But--"

"No buts. You're calling Margaret tonight. You can start there."

"Okeh, but--"

"And next time you want to get plastered, just make sure someone else is around to pull the fucking bottle out of your hand when you've had enough."

"All reet, Dom, but--"

"And we are _not_ swirling down the toilet, do you hear me?"

"I hear ye! Now get yer fuckin' fingers out o' mah arm, ye bampot!"

Dom looked down, saw his white-knuckled hand digging into Billy's muscle. Released him. "Oh. Shit, Bill--sorry, I didn't hurt you, did I? I didn't mean--"

Billy rubbed the spot, knowing there would be a bruise. "Nah, ye cannae hurt me, ye jessy. Ye're no man enough."

Dom raised his eyebrows, willing to let him change the tone. Billy'd had enough for today--he could lecture him more again tomorrow. And the day after. For as long as it took to pull his arse out of that void.

"Not man enough? Surely you're not referring to me? The manliest man to ever don fake feet and ears and frolic in the forest?"

Billy smiled. "Tha's hardly sayin' a lot, is it?"

Dom paused. "I suppose not. I'm still more of a man than you, though."

"An' jus' how do ye figure tha'? Everyone noos ye're mah hen."

" _Hen_?" Dom squeaked. Cursed himself for squeaking.

Billy finally laughed, reached across to give Dom's arm a lightning-quick squeeze.

If it made him laugh, Dom didn't mind squeaking.

 

 

They hailed a cab a short time later, discussing where to find the best toy store for their purposes. The cabbie had, luckily, lived in New York all his life, and knew just where to take them. Offered to wait, just in case they couldn't find what they wanted.

Billy and Dom wandered the aisles, trying not to get distracted. Dom kept stopping to look, saying things like, "Cool!", "Awesome!" and "Wicked!"

"Foor f--" Billy caught himself, looked around for kids. "Foor Pete's sake, Dom, ye sound like 'Lij."

"Let's see if they have porno Pippin and Merry!" Dom urged. Left Billy shaking his head and found the aisle housing action figures large and small. It didn't take long to see that the Merry and Pippin 'giving-a-piggy-back-ride' figures had sold out. "I knew it!" Dom crowed. "Our fans _are_ pervy little hobbit fanciers!"

"Oor fans are _wha_ '?"

"Perverted hobbit fanciers. I read it on the internet. Isn't that mint?"

"Ye're cracked. C'moan, we've got tae find them an' go, th' cab's waitin'."

Two aisles and three "Wicked!" interjections later, they found what they were looking for. Falling about laughing, planning the assault, they picked out everything they needed. Cashed out still giggling, fell into the cab. Asked the cabbie if he would wait while they picked up dinner, before delivering them to Elijah's building.

Back at the apartment, Dom knocked on the door before opening it. Heard Elijah singing quietly in the kitchen. "Hey 'Lij, we're baaack!" He called. "Are you naked?"

"No, cockroach, I'm not," came the response. " _Anymore_."

Billy nearly lost it; snuck past with their packages, heading for the spare room, while Dom took the food into the kitchen. "Hope you didn't have dinner plans," he said cheerfully, dropping the bags on the table. "Bill and I were in the mood for Thai."

"Nah, that's awesome! Listen, were you guys able to--I mean, is everything…"

Dom smiled, but before he could answer, Billy's voice came from the doorway. "Aye, lad, everythin's fine." He walked in, went straight to Elijah, and wrapped his arms around him. "Ah'm soorry Ah've bin sich a fuckin' numptie. Soorry Ah goat blootered."

At Elijah's look of appeal over Billy's shoulder, Dom translated. "Asshole. Smashed."

"Oh. Right. It's okay, Billy."

He let go of Elijah, leaving one arm draped over the younger man's shoulder. "Ye can call aff th' watchdogs now, Elwood."

Caught off-guard, it took Elijah a second to smooth his face out to that patented innocent look. The one that just screamed _I'm an angel_. "What watchdogs?"

"Th' ones ye've goat houndin' mah every moove. Ah proomise Ah'll be guid."

"I don't know what you're--"

Billy leaned in, gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. "All reet. Ye stick wi' tha' stoory, then."

Elijah twisted away, wiping his cheek. Turned to get plates out of the cupboard. "Whatever, Boyd. You've been slowly losing it for a while, but now you're really 'round the bend."

Dom _tsk'd_. "Now play nice, Elijah. It's not fair to hold his fragile mental status over his head like that." He started unpacking the food, pulling white cartons out of the bags.

"He cannae hoold anythin' oover mah heid, he's too short." Billy put the empty bags away.

"Too short!" Elijah exclaimed hotly. "I'm _so_ taller than you are!"

"An' wha' do ye mean 'fragile mental status', ye gobshite?" Billy added. "Ah've goat a mind like a steel trap, so Ah have." He took the plates from Elijah and laid them on the table in their usual spots.

Dom snorted. "A steel trap with a half-witted weasel in it, maybe." He got chopsticks from the drawer.

"Half-witted weasel--why, ye glaikit wee bastirt," Billy sputtered.

"Who the fuck are you calling glaikit?" Dom asked, chopstick-clenching fists going to his hips.

"What's 'glaikit'?" Elijah interrupted.

Dom casually shrugged. "Hell if I know."

"Anyway, that's a bit harsh, Dom." Elijah placed a glass by each plate. "It's, at worst, a slightly troubled ferret."

"Weasel, ferret--semantics." He got three beers from the fridge.

"No fer meh, thanks. Ah'll have ye noo Ah'm smarter than either of _ye_."

Elijah put one of the beers back, poured a glass of water. "How do you figure that?"

"Ah managed tae get both of ye lookin' after meh, didn' I?"

"That's not smart, Billy, that's just pathetic." Dom explained kindly, getting paper towel for napkins.

"Ah, but it takes soomethin' oop heer--" he tapped his temple knowingly, "--to be tha' pathetic in th' furst place."

They sat down. Dom patted his shoulder as Elijah made sympathetic noises. "No it doesn't, Bills. That's kind of the point."

Billy chuckled.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah fixes Billy. Dom & Elijah talk. Dom keeps Billy awake.

Dom, Billy, and Elijah sat sprawled on the sofa. Typical of Elijah's current trend, it was old and well worn--but it was big enough for the three of them (it could handle four at a pinch, he was fond of pointing out), and it was fairly comfortable to sleep on.

Which was what Billy was currently--stealthily--trying to do. Feet on the coffee table, head resting against the high cushions where he sat between the other two, who were completely engrossed in the current TV program on computer gaming. Again. Geeks, the pair of them. He had a headache after stumbling his way through an apology to Margaret. Oh well, at least they'd patched things up. He cautiously twisted his neck--was rewarded with a quiet _click_.

Elijah threw up his hands. "For fuck's sake, Billy, would you get on the floor already?"

"Ah beg yer pardon?" Perhaps not _totally_ engrossed, then.

"If you can't sleep because your back is sore, then get on the floor and let me fix it. If you sit there twitching and cracking your bones any longer I'm going to freakin' _lose_ it."

" _Goin_ ' tae? Ah think ye're a wee bit after th' fact theer." Belatedly added, "An' Ah wasnae tryin' tae sleep."

"What _ever_." He pointed to the floor in front of the coffee table. "Down. On your stomach."

"Why, Elijah," Billy said, feigning surprise with his voice but getting up to comply. "Ah didnae expect tha' kind o' talk froom _ye_."

"Asshole," Elijah grinned, his cheeks tinged pink.

"Exactly mah point. Getting' downreet blue in heer, so it is."

Elijah snorted, but kept his mouth shut this time. If only he could learn to do that more often when Billy was around. It was hard to keep ahead of that brain.

"Wha' are ye goin' tae do?" Billy asked as he stretched out on the floor, propped up on his elbows.

"Do you trust me?"

He started to get up again. "No if ye have tae _ask_ , Ah doan!"

Elijah put his foot on Billy's jean-clad ass, pushed him back down. "Shut up. I'm really good at this."

"Would you shut your gob, please?" Dom muttered, eyes still glued to the TV. "I'm trying to learn something here."

Billy snickered as he settled back down. "Wha', how tae make yer wee ninja spin-kick? Verra valuable, tha' is."

"Spin-kick? Idiot."

"Wank--" Startled, Billy abruptly cut off his word as Elijah's fingers began ungently prodding his spine. He hadn't felt him come down to floor level.

Elijah straddled Billy, but on his knees, not putting any weight on him. Let all his senses channel through his fingertips as he searched for the trouble spots.

"All right. Breathe out when I tell you to." Elijah locked his hands together, fingers entwined, rested the heel of his bottom-most hand against the lowest of the knots in Billy's spine. Wiggled it side to side a bit to make sure the position was good. "Breathe out--all the way." At the end of Billy's deep exhalation, he leaned in, gave a sharp, swift upward thrust. The resulting _crack_ was loud enough to distract Dom from the commercial on TV.

Billy yelped.

"Bloody hell, Elijah," Dom protested.

"Wha' th' fuck are ye doin' tae meh?" Billy shouted, incensed. "Ye're goin' tae break meh bloodeh back!"

"I'd like him back in one piece, you know Elwood."

Elijah rolled his eyes. "Calm down, you pantywaists. Billy, move."

"Noo, Ah've bin paralyzed--"

"Move, jackass!"

Billy tentatively twisted, bent. "Oh. Weel--it's no _so_ bad…"

Elijah snorted. "I told you. All right, lay down again. Next."

He hesitated, but lay down.

"Breathe out."

Billy breathed.

_Pop_.

The nail-bitten fingers did a little more exploration. "Okay, last one. Breathe out."

He exhaled, eyes closed. The final _crack_ was as loud as the first, and Dom winced.

"Fuck's sake, 'Lij, you're going to hurt him."

"No, I'm not." He got to his feet, prodded Billy gently in the side. "Am I?"

Billy didn't move. Just moaned.

Dom sat forward, concerned. "Bill? You all right? Jesus, 'Lij--"

"'S guid, Dom," Billy mumbled, still facedown. "Really, really guid. 'Lij, wheer th' hell did ye learn tae do tha'?"

"Remember when I was filming Eternal Sunshine, and I told you how Kate Winslet messed up her back?" Elijah returned to the sofa.

"Aye."

"Well," he grinned. "I kinda dated her massage therapist for a couple of weeks. She taught me. Turns out I'm pretty good at it."

"Brilliant." Dom reclined back again, disgruntled. "It's nice you have something to fall back on if the acting thing doesn't pan out."

Billy sat up. Looked at Elijah imploringly. "Teach him--" he pointed a finger at Dom without moving his eyes, "--how tae do tha'. Now. Teach _now_." He flopped back down.

Elijah laughed smugly, and Dom turned up the sound on the TV.

 

 

The gaming show ended, and Billy's snores rose from where he still lay in the middle of the floor.

Elijah hit the mute button. Looked at the prone figure on his rug, asked, "Is there anything I should know? About him?"

Dom looked down too, smiling. "He'll be okay. I think yesterday scared a little sense back into him."

"Good. He was hammered."

"We'll just have to…push and pull him along for a bit. 'Til he gets his feet back under him."

"We can do that. What about you?"

Dom stilled. "What about me?"

Elijah didn't look at him. Carefully said, "I, um…I hear you were in rough shape yourself the other day. It's just--you know, if there's anything I can do…"

Dom softened, slouched to lean his head on Elijah's shoulder. "Sometimes you're such a girl, Elwood," he said fondly.

"Am not."

"Are too. I'm fine. You know that play I did in London?"

"Yeah."

"Total and utter crap. Billy's mostly convinced me my career _may_ survive this. I was just feeling sorry for myself."

"That's allowed once in a while, you know."

"Thanks for letting us crash with you."

"You'll stay for a bit, right? It's--like old times."

"Yeah. Like old times," Dom repeated.

 

 

 

A little later, Elijah cleared his throat. "Dom?"

"Yeah?"

"You and Bill--things were…not good, were they?"

A pause. "No. Not really."

"But you're still--"

"Yeah. We are."

"Good," he breathed with heartwarming relief.

 

 

 

"You've been hanging out with Astin too much, you know that?"

"Whaddya mean?"

Dom grinned. "You've gone all soft. You're gonna make a good Mum some day."

"Shut up, asshole."

"Elijah Wood!" Dom scolded. "Watch your language! Whatever will the children think?"

"You're the only child here."

"Spank me, Mummy."

Elijah elbowed him in the ribs.

 

 

 

"Dom," he said quietly.

"Yeah."

"Take him to bed. If he sleeps on the floor much longer, he's going to undo all my hard work."

"If you insist. You staying up?"

"Nah. I gotta be up early in the morning. Damn agent scheduled a fucking breakfast interview."

"Bastards."

"You're telling me."

"Help me get him up."

Together they hauled Billy to his feet. The green eyes opened, heavy-lidded.

"Put meh doon."

"That's the plan, Billy-boy," Dom reassured him, propping him up under his arm. "As soon as we get you to the bed."

"Ah can bloodeh weel walk, ye numptie."

"Fine." He let him go.

Billy staggered.

Dom put his arm back around his waist. "That's what I thought. Come on, Bills, it's sleepy-time. 'Night, 'Lij."

"'Night, Dom. 'Night, Billy."

Billy grinned sleepily. "'Night, John-Boy. 'Night, Jim-Bob."

"Idiot."

 

 

 

Billy sat on the edge of the bed, slowly pulling off bits of clothing. Looked dejectedly at his jeans. Sighed. Sat there.

Dom chuckled. "Come on Bills, stand up. I'll help you. Are you going to be able to wait for 'Lij to fall asleep, or do you want to leave that for another night?"

"Tonigh'. Befoore he forgets he seid it. Can ye keep meh awake?"

Dom arched his eyebrow. "I think I probably can, yeah. He's got to be up early. You realize he's going to wake the fuckin' neighbours when he starts in on us?"

Billy struggled to his feet. Tried to get the button on the fly, but his sleep-clumsy hands just couldn't do it. Dom came over, reached down, and easily slipped it open. Long fingers pulled the zipper down. As Billy watched, he said, "Ah noo. Ah think it'll be woorth it." Dom let him push the waistband down, let him lean against him for support while he tiredly lifted each leg in turn to kick the denim off.

"In you go." Dom pulled the covers back, waited while Billy crawled in, still wearing his shorts, pulled the covers up over him. Went around to the other side and quickly rid himself of his own clothes. All of them. Climbed into bed.

Billy immediately turned to move closer. Dom opened his arms, welcoming him. Held him snugly.

"Missed this, Dom."

"Me too. I missed you too. Three months is way too long."

"Ye coulda coome back earlier."

"I know. You could have come with me when I asked."

"Ah noo."

Dom reached for Billy's chin, tipped his face up. Softly kissed him.

The kiss warmed. Heated when Billy opened his mouth, teased at Dom's lips with his tongue. Flamed when Dom opened his mouth and tangled his tongue around Billy's, humming. They eventually, slowly withdrew.

Billy rubbed his nose against Dom's cheek. "Why have ye no kessed meh again 'til noow?"

"Well, I wasn't going to yesterday, was I? I don't fancy kissing someone that drunk unless I'm more than a little wobbled myself. Why didn't you kiss me? You had your chance at the airport."

"I didnae noo if ye woanted meh tae."

"You didn't kn--how the hell could you not know?" He suddenly grinned. "And here I thought I had _very_ clear fuck-me eyes."

"Oh, ye do. Ah caught _tha_ ' signal loud and cleear. But Ah wasnae goin' tae jump yer bones in th' middle of a flamin' toy stoore."

"Why not? We could have imitated porno Merry and Pippin."

"Ye're twisted, ye noo tha'?"

"So I've been told."

Billy reached up and captured his lips again. Licked the top one, nibbled on it. Dom made a low, quiet noise in his throat. "An' Ah still didnae noo if ye woanted meh tae kess ye. I wasnae sure ye woanted meh back." He trailed his lips down Dom's chin, underneath it to his throat.

"I came to get you, didn't I, Billy?" he breathed.

"Aye. Tha' ye ded, Dom. But ye're also meh mate, an' a mate woulda done th' same thing."

"A mate wouldn't have held you in his arms as you passed out--twice."

"Noo fair pickin' soomethin' Ah doan remember."

"All right. How 'bout I make it perfectly crystal fucking clear?" He rolled them over until he was laying half on top of Billy. Kissed him deeply, thrusting his tongue in his mouth, letting his hands slide down to Billy's hips. Gripped him tightly, pressing his erection down against Billy's. One thin layer of cotton did little to disguise the heat. "I still love you, Bills. I'm not losing you to that damned void."

Billy's breath hitched in his throat, his arms snaked up around Dom's neck. "Ah loove ye too, Dominic. Ah'm glad Ah goat smeekit at th' strip cloob an' called ye. Glad Ah gave ye an excuse tae coome hoome."

"Me too." He covered Billy's mouth with his. Kissed him hard. Lifted his head, searched his eyes, flicking back and forth from depth to green depth. "Tell me you need me, Bills. Please?"

"Ah need ye, Dom. Ah've always needed ye. Inside, ootside, an' six ways froom Sunday, Ah need ye. Doan ye ever fuckin' leave meh like tha' again."

His lips never leaving the surface of Billy's skin, Dom traveled down, under the sheets and blankets. The final layer of cotton swiftly disappeared.

"Oh God, Dom--three months is def'nitely too loong. Bloodeh hell. Dom--Dom, doan ye _ever_ let anyone tell ye ye doan have a real fuckin' talent," he gasped, arching up.

A low laugh floated up.

 

 

"SHHH!"

"Doan 'shh' so loud," Billy whispered, giggling. "Ye'll wake 'im oop."

"Oh, please. This is _'Lij_ we're talking about." Dom spoke quietly, nevertheless.

"True." He plugged it in. "He can programme it tomorreh."

"Yeah. It's just the initial pants-wetter we're after here."

"Doon th' hall. A bloodeh _trail_ of 'em."

"Yeah. The big one right outside his door. He doesn't put his glasses on before he goes to piss, he'll probably step on it," Dom snickered gleefully.

"Ye doan think it's too much, do ye?"

"Nah. It's _just_ this side of too much. We're good."

"Give meh a coouple. Insehct versus machine."

"Love it. Battle to the death."

A few minutes later, they stood back and surveyed their handiwork.

"Perfect," Dom sighed happily.

"It'll serve him reet."

Flicking off the hall light, they went back to bed.

 

 

 

Elijah stumbled through his door. It was too fucking early. He stepped on something round and hard. Looked down, squinting.

" ** _EEEEEIIIIIAAAAUUUUUGGHHHH!!_** "

The ear-splitting shriek nearly knocked the doors off their hinges. Dom and Billy woke with a start, disoriented.

Elijah leapt back into his room, raced to his night table, and fumbled his glasses onto his face. Grabbed a large, hard-soled boot from his wardrobe. Started toward the door again. Thought better of it, and returned to the wardrobe to don slippers.

At the door, peered out into the hall. Shrieked again. " _Cockroaches_?? Where the _fuck_ did these come from? _FUCK_!" He launched himself at the big one he'd stepped on, thwacking it with all his might with the boot, hearing the loud, satisfying _thud_. Squealed as it launched in the air directly toward him. And landed at his feet, unmoving.

He stared at it. Something wasn't right here--

He looked down the hall. Looked at the perfect little trail of different sized cockroaches that led straight to…

Fuck. A new goddamned answering machine, its little red lights blinking merrily away as it fought the evil insect army. He walked over, a grin starting despite himself, shook his head at the roaches triumphantly perched on top, the less valiant ones crushed underneath. Noticed they'd even gone to the trouble of tearing some of the rubber legs off and scattering them around. Nice touch.

Then he heard them. Helpless giggles, muffled but not muffled enough. They were pissing themselves in there. "You are _so_ fucking dead, Monaghan!"

Billy howled even louder.

"Oi!" Dom protested with a shout, his voice ragged from laughing. "It was all Bill's idea!"

"Why ye bloodeh traitor--" Billy's voice gave out, dissolving into high giggles yet again.

Elijah went to the kitchen. Prepared his retaliation, shouting threats and imprecations and curses the whole time, trying not to laugh at the shrieking and snorting coming from his spare room. Their room.

He carefully opened their door. They were laying in bed, clutching each other, Billy wiping tears from his eyes, Dom just letting them trickle because he was too weak to lift his arm and swipe at them. Yep. Pissing themselves.

"Assholes." He advanced toward the bed. "Fucking cunts."

"Ach, shite, 'Lij, _doan_ \--" Billy wheezed, as he and Dom started to thrash about. They were too tangled up in the sheets and each other to escape though, and Elijah stood over them with glee.

He poured the huge basin of cold water directly over their chests. Satisfied, watched it soak through the blankets and sheets as they shouted and cursed and laughed themselves hoarse.

Just like old times.

Elijah smiled.


End file.
